


Hearts undercover

by starry_alien



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Sex, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_alien/pseuds/starry_alien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stared at his phone; Montparnasse's name didn't leave the screen, his finger hovering the call buttom. With a long sigh he rested the phone on the table, "What I'm going to do?" he asked himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An uneasy morning.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this with Mallory (willowingends.tumblr.com), it's a RP we did a couple of months ago or so.  
> It's unbetaed so sorry if there's any mistake.  
> Well, hope you like it.

A soft gasp escaped the poet as he awoke, his hands trembling as he tried to hold himself still and reacquaint himself with the real, waking world. After a few moments of it not working, he stood up and moved swiftly on making a cup of chamomile tea. He turned at the sound of an opening door, his gaze guilty. “Sorry” he whispered, dropping his arms and the sleeves from his nightshirt.  
Courfeyrac moved to stand next to the poet and hugged him, “It’s too early” he said and the poet smiled.  
“You should go to bed, try to sleep again”  
“No” Courfeyrac demanded squeezing the man in his arms, “I want to stay with you now”  
Jehan pulled from his arms lightly, eyes gentle. “No, you should really let me be. You need your rest, what with finals coming up.” His eyes were soft as he gazed at the man, though he was paler than usual.  
“But…” Courfeyrac protested, Jehan stopped him with a finger on his lips.  
“No, you need rest, the end of it”  
Courfeyrac reluctantly walked to his room, all the way pouting at the poet.

Turning back to the counter, Jehan gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white. His veins were burning but he dare not leave the house. He sat by the table with tea, his whole body felt numb and his head dizzy. The sound of the pouring rain came from outside filling the silence in the flat, “What a wonderful sound to hear a morning like this” he thought.  
He laid his head upon the table and breathed out slowly. Maybe the rain would distract him from the pain that filled him at the moment. He scrolled through his phone's contacts silently until he came to Montparnasse's name. He dialed it, and then hanged up. No... He didn't dare.  
He stared at his phone; Montparnasse's name didn't leave the screen, his finger hovering the call buttom. With a long sigh he rested the phone on the table, "What I'm going to do?" he asks himself.  
Soon the light rain changed into a storm, and so did the feelings inside his chest. He wanted to go and crawl into Courfeyrac’s arms, to have him hold him close and tell him he didn’t have to run away from everything anymore. Their last break up had been violent though, and he was lucky to still be living here. He didn’t want to risk anything. He wanted to get a stash from Montparnasse, but he had been clean for a month now. He couldn’t go back.  
He stared at Courfeyrac’s door for several minutes, but he didn't dare walk into that room. His feelings would be messier if he did so. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his phone's contacts, this time searching for another name. He dialed it and waited.  
"It's fucking early" a rough voice said.  
"I know R, sorry" the low voice of the poet answered, "Do you think you can come over?"  
This time Grantaire sounded concern, "Something wrong?"  
"Just come, please"  
The man on the other side of the phone grumbled under his breath, but concern was evident as the sound of him throwing off the covers came from the phone. "What should I bring?" He demanded.  
"N-Nothing, god, please don't offer me anything." He whispered against the phone. "I just need a friend that knows...and I don't want a hit." His hands trembled against the table.  
"I'll be there in 20 minutes" Grantaire said.  
"Okay, and R?"  
"Yes?"  
"Thank you" the poet said, melancholy echoing in his voice.  
"Anytime, darling"

The call ended and Jehan remained in his sit, he tried not to think about his phone going off with messages he didn't dare to read. He abandoned it on the table and stood to prepare coffee for Grantaire and more tea for himself.  
There was a heavy knock on at the door, he looked at his phone ignoring the unread messages, it had only been 15 minutes.  
Jehan went and opened the door, lowering his eyes.  
"Hello Grantaire" he murmured softly to the taller man. He pulled him into a tight hug, unable to think of what to say, only wishing to be held, to have some form of affection. He stood up on his toes and kissed the man's cheek. It was his usual show of affection, something that never changed. The man held him close, stiffening slightly at the kiss on his cheek.  
"What's wrong?" He murmured softly, leading him back to the dinner table.  
"I tried to call him" the poet said lowering his watery eyes. Grantaire rested his hand on Jehan's, "I ended the call before he answer though"  
Grantaire pulled the poet into his lap and hugged him. "It's okay" he said resting his chin on Jehan's shoulder. The ginger hided his face and silent tears fell from his eyes. "I'm here with you" Grantaire said kissing his hair.  
"I wanted the fix so bad." He whispered softly against his shoulder. The man's lips on his hair were a gentle comfort and he pressed himself closer to Grantaire, wanting to be held down to reality. "God, I might have even wanted him and I don't like him at all." His words trembled. So much had changed since he had gotten onto the drugs.  
The artist gently cupped his face. "Hey, you refused. You stopped yourself. That's better than what I've ever done with my drinking."  
"Oh, R" he said squeezing himself closer to the man.  
"It's the truth, you call for help, for company, that's so much more than I can do, though you always come at me when I'm in need" Grantaire said stroking his hair, "It's my turn to return the favor"  
"I don't want to fall into that world again" Jehan cried out.  
"And you won't fall; I'll be here with you" Grantaire pressed a kiss in his forehead. Jehan leaned up and kissed his jaw, aching for the attention, wanting it even more than a fix at the moment. He could not ask it from Courfeyrac, it would be too awkward, and all his other friends were busy. Grantaire was here though, but he was unsure of the limits he had with him. The artist smiled, "No, you will not fall back into that. We will hold you steady."  
He cupped his face and slowly leaned in; Grantaire could see the want in Jehan's eyes. When their lips joined it was a soft touch. Jehan moved his hands to grip dark curls and leaned closer, Grantaire opened his mouth slightly and Jehan took the free space with his own, moaning softly when the warm touch of a tongue caressed his lip.  
"If you need this, I'm willing to give it to you" Grantaire breathed against his skin.  
The poet's eyes lowered, and then closed as he pushed himself closer.  
"Please, Grantaire, if I may. If you are sure this will work for you." He knew that on some level, the man may view him as a stand in for Enjolras, but he did not care at the moment. He only wanted him to hold him at the moment, and be loved.  
Grantaire nodded, "Of course. I would be happy to help you, and you know it's as wanted by you as it is by me." He ran a hand through the long ginger locks. "Would you like to go to your room?"

Jehan stood and pulled Grantaire's hand, guiding him to his room. Both sat on the bed, kissing lazily at first, but soon they were in need of more.  
Jehan started to trail kisses down Grantaire’s neck, while the artist tried to pull their shirts off. Once their chests were bare Jehan pulled Grantaire closer, he needed to feel the brush of skin; he needed to feel Grantaire's touch.  
Grantaire pulled Jehan down against the mattress, attacking his neck with rough kisses and teeth. The poet arched up against the man, eyes closing as he relished the feeling of physical contact. The bed was firm below him, just the way he preferred it. It gave less, allowed him to be pressed up against the man. His lips pressed against every inch of the man's skin he could reach, his nails digging into his shoulder. The roughness, he loved it. Grantaire left him with dark marks upon his neck, obvious. Jehan would not be able to hide them the next day. His eyes were soft and yet filled with lust as he tugged the man up against him, grinding slowly against him through their pants.

The two men moved in sync. Jehan found himself moaning when Grantaire's teeth dragged against his bare chest. He sticked his hand between their bodies and rubbed the growing bulge in Grantaire's pants.  
Grantaire caught him in a deep kiss, he ground their hips together yet the friction was not enough. Jehan's heart was racing, Grantaire ran a hand gently over his cheek before moving back to pull their pants and underwear off, he tossed them around the room before hovering Jehan again.  
Jehan wrapped his arms around the man's neck, unafraid to show him the scars that he had there from his different ways of getting the drug into his system. Grantaire knew all his secrets, had listened to him sob over his weakness, cry over how he and Courfeyrac fought and how he could never tell his now ex about his abuse. "Please." He breathed softly against his lips.  
The artist smiled, "Of course." He replied, nipping his neck as he gently prepared the man with his fingers. Slowly, with increasing care, he thrust into the man.

Jehan's head fell back against the pillow, moans falling out of his lips as he bucked his hips upwards, his fingers gripping Grantaire's shoulder as well as he could. He exhaled slowly, Grantaire smirk at the feel of his legs going tense beneath him. He leaned forward and kissed the ginger man, thrusting rough against his entrance. The feel of Jehan moving upwards to gain more friction made him feel like soon something would explode inside him. He aligned himself to try to hit the stop he knew would drive the poet over the edge, he picked up speed, thrusting in and out.

Thrashing his head about and offering up small moans of pleasure, Jehan rocked against the man and allowed all further thoughts to flee from his mind. The kiss was sloppy, but fierce and delightful. He arched up and called loudly as the man struck deep within him. The man's name fell from his lips repeatedly like a prayer.  
Grantaire moved against the man in a slick dance, teasing him with slow moments before suddenly moving faster again. When Jehan tightened all around him he felt his head spin as the man's whole body writhed with the force of his orgasm. The man's denials of such pleasures always lead to the most wonderful releases. A few more thrusts found him spent within the man.  
They lay tangled together among the sheets, exchanging slow and languid kisses when a small cough came from the doorway.

"I'm glad to see you two are having fun." Courfeyrac muttered softly.

Jehan first reaction was to cover his scars, while Grantaire only stared at the man standing by the door. Courfeyrac walked slowly and sat at the end of the bed.  
"May I?" He asked.  
Jehan's eyes searched for Grantaire who nodded, Courfeyrac climbed the bed and settled at the free side of the poet, leaving the ginger in the middle. Jehan snuggled to Grantaire's side to leave more space for their new company.  
Courfeyrac ran a gentle hand through the man's hair. "Is this what you've been hiding for so long? If you no longer loved me the same way you should have simply told me rather than dragging it along." His words were not accusatory, only soft. Jehan turned to press against them both equally and shook his head. He would not tell him, but it was certainly not that.  
Grantaire wrapped his arm around Jehan's shoulder, laying his hand on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "Let's not question him about that now. Not until he is ready." He murmured softly.  
Courfeyrac ran his hand all the length of Grantaire's arm, laying it at the artist shoulder and placed a kiss in the poet's hair. "I'll wait for you" he whispered to the ginger.  
Jehan smiled softly, he reached for each man's hand and rested them in his chest. "Thank you" he said to Courfeyrac, then silence fell in the room.  
Minutes past and Grantaire's breathing turned heavy as the man drifted to sleep, Jehan remained awake and so did Courfeyrac.

The poet held Grantaire's hand as he rolled to face Courfeyrac. "I promise… I wasn't cheating on you." He whispered softly, his eyes soft and asking for him to believe him.  
Courfeyrac shrugged, "I... I'd like to believe that Jehan. But, it's not my place to say anything about it."  
"You can always say something" the poet said with soft eyes. "I'll always care for you, Courf"  
Courfeyrac looked into the poet's eyes, "I know" he replied kissing his cheek, "and I'll always care for you." Jehan shifted closer to the man without letting go the artist's hand. Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around the man. His eyes were gentle as he kissed the man’s forehead. "Please, don’t feel like you have to hide from me. I will never judge you."  
About to reply, Jehan stiffened as his phone went off from his bedside. Grantaire mumbled in his sleep, rolling away and pulling Jehan’s arm with him, preventing him from squirming out of Courfeyrac’s arms as Montparnasse’s ringtone began blaring.  
Grantaire pulled the poet's arm exposing the scars marked in the skin, Courfeyrac's jaw clenched as his eyes wander over them. Jehan's face was pale, he squirmed to grab his phone and turned it off, this was not the time to deal with it.  
"This... I" the poet couldn't find words.  
"Shh, don't worry know" Courfeyrac cupped his face gently, "when you're ready you'll tell me, I know."  
Jehan’s eyes weakened and he closed his eyes tightly as he moved to let the covers envelope him. "What did I ever do to deserve you two? Any of my friends?" He whispered weakly.  
Courfeyrac smiled softly, kissing his forehead. "You were yourself." He replied softly before pulling him into a hug and pulling Grantaire along as well.  
Grantaire mumbled Enjolras's name in his sleep, Jehan smiled and squeezed his hand, Courfeyrac sank his hand in the man's dark curls, pressing lightly against the skull and Grantaire sighed content.  
Jehan's half-closed eyes stared at the browny eyes of the man in front of him, he moved slightly to kiss the top of his nose, then he let the dark embrace of sleep took him.  
Courfeyrac smiled and held his arms around him. He would hold him close and comfort him if the nightmares awoke him again. He smiled at Grantaire’s smile. He hoped he would one day be able to speak to Enjolras about what he felt for him. Soon the comfortable and soft warmth took his energy; he fell asleep as the artist and the poet by his side, with a smile in his face.

It was the next day, when Jehan wakes up to a violent knock at the door that all smiles faded away. Jehan moved to pull his way through the tangled arms and sheets to stop the increasingly violent rapping. He opened the door slightly, just enough to look out into the hallway. "What do you want, Montparnasse?"  
The handsome man scowled, eyes dark, "You woke me up yesterday. What the hell did you want?"  
"Nothing, now please go away" the poet said calmly.  
"Are you sure? Didn't you want this?" Montparnasse took out of his pocked a fix.  
Jehan stared at the little packet in his hand. Yes, he'd wanted it, but now there were Grantaire and Courfeyrac on his bed and he didn't want anything but that, the company of his friends.  
Montparnasse smirked, dangling it before the poet who stiffened before him. "How long has it been Jehan? How long since you wrote a decent poem?" He enjoyed seeing people squirm, enjoyed more the money they presented him with when they finally gave in. "We can head out to the warehouse, no one will know what you're doing."  
An arm curled around Jehan's waist and jerked him back. Grantaire's face appeared in the doorway and he sneered at Montparnasse. "Fuck off, honestly, before Courfeyrac wakes up or I'll kick your ass." He growled softly.  
"Oh, the drunkard came to play" Montparnasse replied, ignoring the glare Grantaire was throwing at him.  
Suddenly Grantaire opened the door and grabbed the man by the collar. "Fuck off" he whispered menacingly, "or you'll regret it" were his final words, and Montparnasse obeyed.  
"We'll see again" he said bitterly to Jehan.  
"Like hell you will" Grantaire replied before the poet could, and slammed the door shut. "I hate him" he said.  
Jehan lowered his eyes, "I know. I'm sorry." he murmured weakly. He tugged at his sleeve, his skin itching. God, that had been temptation at his door, the devil himself. "Ah… Do you want breakfast? I… I need something to do."  
"Courfeyrac's still asleep... Maybe you should make him pancakes." Grantaire suggested softly.  
"Right" Jehan walked into the kitchen tugging Grantaire's hand, the artist looked at the odd movements of the poet.  
"Are you okay? I mean... that sure was hard for you" Grantaire asked reaching for his hand.  
"Yeah, I... mmm, I'm okay" Jehan answered, he looked up and a sleepy Courfeyrac was standing at the door.  
"I'm hungry" he said.  
"Lucky you, we are cooking" Jehan smiled.  
Courfeyrac rubbed his eyes and walked over to drape his arms around the two men. He nuzzled Jehan's neck gently. "Who was the fucker at the door this early? I'll kick his ass."  
"No one" Jehan spoke quickly, lowering his eyes and moving to get out the ingredients he would need. Grantaire sighed, watching him move around as he balanced Courfeyrac.  
Courfeyrac rested his chin on Grantaire's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "It was him, right?" Grantaire looked the brunette's face, his eyes were serious, Grantaire nodded once.  
Jehan moved around preparing the food, "it'll be ready in a moment" he said to both men and planted a kiss on their cheeks. "I love you" his voice was happy, but his eyes showed angst.  
Grantaire smiled at the poet, kissing his cheek in return. "We love you too." He whispered softly. "Thank you for the food." He glanced at Courfeyrac, trusting the man to be sensitive.  
"We're always here for you." Courfeyrac murmured, wrapping him in a tight hug before letting him go. "You don't ever have to see him again."  
Shrugging them off, Jehan smiled. "I'm fine, I promise."

The three men sat at the small table and ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence, throwing warm glances at each other. Soon Courfeyrac started to talk, about his classes and the last meeting, he impressed Enjolras's scowl and Jehan and Grantaire laughed. He talked about Joly and his last illness, and how he once found Feuilly and Bahorel about to kiss.  
Jehan felt all the anxiety leave his body to be replaced with a warmth feeling instead. Grantaire talked about art and Greek gods. He listened his friends talk and heard their laugh, his fingers aches for a paper and a pen; he wanted to write about this morning, and about last night, about the rough but gentle embrace of Grantaire and how it is to sleep next to Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac looked up from his debate with Grantaire on Eros and Psyche and smiled at Jehan. "You look happily thoughtful my poet, that's a good change." The pet name slipped passed his lips without a thought and Jehan smiled in response. Grantaire's own face relaxed into a smile at the easy interaction. He gathered the plates together, ignoring Jehan's demand for him to sit and moved to the sink.  
"And so, we shall have a lovely day, all three of us." He spoke firmly as Jehan grumbled about a guest doing housework.  
"We should have a picnic" Courfeyrac suggested, "The weather looks lovely"  
Jehan's eyes lighted up, the poet jumped into Courfeyrac’s lap and said "Yes! What do you think Grantaire?"  
"How can I say no to that?" the artist replied to the excited poet.  
Courfeyrac kissed Jehan's cheek and hugged the man in his arms. "I’m glad you agree, little poet." He whispered softly against his ear. He had not been out in the sun near enough lately. Perhaps he would regain some color. He set him down in the seat gently, standing to move to the fridge. He pulled out the sandwich material, having everyone’s favorites memorized.  
Jehan flushed with pleasure, looking excited. "Where will we be going?" He asked excitedly. He could not help himself, Grantaire finished the dishes and sat beside him, the poet started to list dozen of places they could visit.  
"What do you think about the gardens where I took you for our first date?" Courfeyrac suggested.  
"It's been so long since the last time I visited that place" Jehan remembered nostalgic, it was when his relationship with Courfeyrac was stable.  
"We can go back to mine before, so I can pick up my guitar" Grantaire said, "you, Courfeyrac, will be my singer."  
"You sing a thousand times better than me, no way." Courfeyrac added laughing, "And you could also pick your sketchbook, I know it's been a while since you last used it"  
"It's because all I can draw is golden curls and permanents scowls." Grantaire replied.  
Jehan smiled softly. "Perhaps today you can draw ginger lines and black curls." His eyes lit up. "I can bring my flute! Then Courfeyrac won't have a choice but to sing!"  
"By what reasoning!?" The man exclaimed.  
Pouting playfully, Jehan shrugged. "Your voice sounds better with a flute."  
Grantaire grinned widely. "Two to one, mon ami. You lose this one!"


	2. A day out.

When everything was ready, food, blanket and bottles of water on Courfeyrac's bag, they headed to Grantaire's flat. He picked up his guitar and, hesitantly, grabbed his sketchbook too.  
Jehan was full with happiness by the time they got to the gardens, he pulled both men by the hand and brought them to a free stop under a tree.   
Courfeyrac smiled at Jehan's delight. He spread out the blanket with ease and reclined on it, pulling both men down with him. "It is good to have you both here." He murmured softly.  
Smiling, Jehan kissed his cheek. "You are too kind!"  
Grantaire stared at the pair and smiled; Jehan stood up and started take pictures with his phone. One of Grantaire and Courfeyrac hugging, other of flowers, some of the sky, one of a little boy playing with a dog, and one of a girl smiling at her dad. Courfeyrac was delighted to see that the poet was having a good time, Grantaire by his side was playing the guitar and humming a song. 

"Look at this" Jehan crushed Courfeyrac and handed his phone to Grantaire, when his eyes focus on the screen he saw the image of blond curls and a book.  
"No" Grantaire said, "It can't be"  
"He's there" Jehan replied excited.  
Grantaire and Courfeyrac both looked up at the vague gesture Jehan made. Courfeyrac noticed him first and pointed him out to Grantaire. He pushed the man up, grinning widely. "Go get him tiger." He called loudly.  
Glaring at him as he stumbled forward, Grantaire glanced at the man who had looked up at the call of the man.   
"Oh." Enjolras said calmly, gazing at the man in surprise.

Jehan giggled softly, "This is perfect." He gazed at the man beside him and bit his lip.  
Courfeyrac smiled to the poet, he cupped his face gently and said "You know, I really want to kiss you" he leaned in and softly pressed a kiss in his forehead. The poet curled his arms around the man pulling him into a hug, "Remind me again, why aren't we together?"   
Jehan smiled at him softly, lowering his eyes. "I kept secrets from you." He whispered softly.   
His eyes grew softer. He hugged him closer and nuzzled him. "Ah, right!" Courfeyrac said breathing in the sweet aroma on Jehan's hair. "Doesn't seem important anymore though" he looked down to meet the poet's eyes and kissed his nose.  
"I love you" Jehan said hiding his face in his chest.  
Courfeyrac smiled softly, "I love you too...and I'll always be here for you." He murmured against his hair. He held Jehan close as the man's shoulders began to shake with silent tears. The man had never been so emotional, but he would hold him nonetheless.

 

Grantaire walked slowly, he wanted to run away but Enjolras was staring at him, there was no way he could escape. He stopped in front of the man; he realized then that he was still holding his guitar.  
"Umm... Hi" he said.  
Enjolras lifted an eyebrow, glancing at the guitar and then at the direction he came from. "Hello, enjoying your days off?" He murmured softly, marking the page in his book.  
"Um, yes" Grantaire replied, "It's a lovely day, we thought it would be a good idea to have a picnic"  
"It is a lovely day" Enjolras pointed out, "That's why I'm here, Combeferre kicked me out."  
"You could join us" Grantaire suggested, lowering his eyes.  
Glancing over, Enjolras lifted his eyebrow. "I will watch from here." He murmured. "They look busy."  
Upon looking over, Grantaire smiled. "So they are." He stood by the tree; he looked how Courfeyrac hugged the poet in his arms and whispered low in his ear, "Maybe this is good."  
Enjolras looked up at him, "What do you mean?" he asked.  
"I'm just thinking, maybe this helps them sort things out" Grantaire said, without meeting the blonde's eyes.  
Enjolras didn't say anything for some minutes- "You should sit" he suggested, gesturing the free space by his side.  
"If it's okay with you" Grantaire met his eyes, Enjolras nodded once, "okay"

 

"It's okay darling" Courfeyrac whispered, "I'll always be here for you"  
Jehan's shoulders kept shaking for a long while. Courfeyrac looked up to Grantaire, who sent him a sympathetic smile.  
Jehan pulled back and wiped his eyes fiercely. "Okay, I'm good, I'm sorry." He muttered his ears red as he looked away from the man.   
Courfeyrac brushed back his hair. "It's okay."

 

Grantaire sat down silently, holding his guitar carefully. He picked at it without playing any tune. Enjolras watched him for a moment. "Do you play?"  
"No shit Sherlock" Grantaire replied and cursed under his breath, "I'm sorry, didn't mean to be rude, it's just... sorry"  
"It's okay, I guess it was a pretty obvious question" Enjolras said opening his book again.  
Grantaire stared at the man, his blond locks fell hiding his face, his thin and long fingers curled around the book delicately, and there was something in the way those finger moved to turn the pages that hypnotized the artist. His own fingers were aching to draw the man in front of him.  
Enjolras turned his eyes slightly, he could see by the corner of his eyes the way Grantaire was looking at him, the way those light blue eyes shine with longing and adoration. He cleared his throat; the sound woke Grantaire of his stupor.   
"You sketch, don't you?" Enjolras spoke quietly, a little off-put by the man's staring. When he received a bare nod, he leaned back. "May I see some drawings? Or would you prefer to be drawing something right now instead of gawking at me as though I was put on show?"  
Grantaire's cheeks flushed at the man's words.

Jehan was sitting by Courfeyrac, a pen in his hand and his notebook on his lap. He looked at the man beside him and smiled.  
"If only he could tell Enjolras how he feels" Courfeyrac said, his eyes in the couple under the tree.  
"He is scared" Jehan replied.  
"Once I was scared too, but I found the courage to tell you how I felt"  
"Yes" Jehan held Courfeyrac's hand on his, "but Enjolras is not me, and Grantaire is not you, and their story is not the same as us"   
"Our stories may not be the same, but I want them as happy as I am." He drew back Jehan's sleeve gently, his finger tracing one of the scars. "As happy as I wish you to be."  
Lowering his eyes, Jehan turned away slightly. "I am happy."  
Jehan started to write with his right hand while Courfeyrac held the other.  
"Are you really happy?" Courfeyrac asked.  
"I am, I'm here with you and R" Jehan kept writing, his long locks shine with the sun, his skin looked paler. Courfeyrac couldn't take his eyes away from the poet.  
"Did I mention that I really want to kiss you?"  
Jehan smile without looking up, his mind was full of words and one by one were printed in the notebook on his lap, "I think you mentioned it, I'm not sure"

 

"I didn't mean to stare, I… sorry" Grantaire said looking away.  
"It's okay, but that doesn't answer my questions" Enjolras's eyes were still on Grantaire.  
"I do, I wish I were drawing right now" he forced out, he couldn't let Enjolras see his drawings when most of them were him.   
"Do you have your sketchbook with you?" Enjolras asked and Grantaire looked up.  
"What?" But Enjolras didn't answer, he just raised one eyebrow, "Yes"  
"Then go ahead and bring it"  
Grantaire eyed the blonde man for a second, like not believing what was happening, reluctantly he did as he was told.  
"At least it isn't a bottle of wine what he wants" Enjolras thought when the artist walked away.

 

A soft, concerned smile was on Courfeyrac’s lips. Jehan was too pale, worryingly so. "I think this summer you will come with me to my family’s lake and you will tan." He declared, pulling Jehan to him when the man paused writing. "Just the two of us, so we can not worry about who will see us."  
A softness came to Jehan’s formerly tense shoulders. He pressed back against the man. "I would like that." He still wrote though, his lip caught between his teeth as he thought. He froze when Courfeyrac freed that lip to kiss him gently.

 

Grantaire snuck by them, picking up the sketchbook and quickly walking back to Enjolras. Both situations were equally awkward. He managed a strained smile towards the blond. "I am happy to see some issues are working their ways into solutions." He murmured.  
Nodding, Enjolras reclined back on the tree, his gaze back on the book and his overall being relaxed. "What will you draw, if I may ask?" It was good to be out, and he would have to thank Combeferre.  
Grantaire lowered his voice, "Well, you are perfect" he said opening his sketchbook.  
"Excuse me?" Enjolras looked up from the book again.  
"I mean, you would be a good model, the way you're sitting now it's a good view... If it's okay with you, of course."  
"If you are sure, I think that there are better things to draw, like those two" Enjolras told the artist, pointing the two men kissing passionately under the tree.  
"They won't stop moving" Grantaire said looking at the pair, "and you can keep reading, I won't disturb you"  
"If that's so, then I agree" Enjolras once again, drew his attention to the book and he missed the wide smile in Grantaire's face. 

 

Jehan opened his mouth slightly so their lips would fit together perfectly, Courfeyrac sighed content deepening the kiss. Jehan let his pen fall and circled his arms around Courfeyrac's neck, pulling the man closer.   
His fall blowing in a light breeze, Jehan pulled back after a moment, his face flushed. "I forgot… how right that feels." He murmured. It was like sunlight in his heart, on his skin. It was the most amazing feeling, that love. He smiled shyly at Courfeyrac's grin. "I think I would like to do that again."  
"Good, my poet." He murmured softly, running his hands through his hair.  
Jehan kissed Courfeyrac again and again, time went by and he was delighted, Courfeyrac held him close, stroking his hair lightly, kissing him back. Nothing was more perfect that the feeling of belonging.

 

Lost in his book, Enjolras' eyes darted back and forth, the only evidence he was even alive. Even his chest seemed to be still as he breathed so lightly. Grantaire found delight in sketching out that gentle scene, making notes of colors although he knew Enjolras' scheme better than the sky's.  
Grantaire's eyes were in his sketch, his hands moving like feathers, leaving lines in the paper. Enjolras spied by the corner of his eyes, but then he turned his face, the sight of Grantaire concentrated was something unusual to him. He looked absorbed by the art, his dark curls falling on his forehead, his eyes full of passion moved at the same speed of his hands. Grantaire looked up and caught Enjolras staring.  
"You moved." He pointed out with a light smile. He stilled his hand on the paper, hiding the shadowed outlines and the small marks of color.   
Enjolras frowned at his chiding tone, but removed to his book. “If this kept him sober and reasonable, so be it” he thought.   
Grantaire resumed his drawing, moving his hand easily, tracing soft lines on the paper. Once in a while he looked up and his eyes would meet Enjolras's for a fraction of a second.   
Enjolras smiled softly at the man's hesitant glances up every now and then. He didn't move though, not wishing to anger him again.

Jehan jumped as his phone went off, interrupting the calm sunlight. This one he answered, "Éponine?" He asked, turning away from Courfeyrac a bit. The man frowned slightly, but would not listen in to the conversation.  
"Where the hell are you? Montparnasse is so pissed right now, what the hell did you do?" Her voice was rough, probably just having finished her drag off a cigarette. Jehan frowned, his finger twirling in his hair.  
"He appeared in my flat today, tried to sell me a fix but Grantaire kicked him out" Jehan said, "Did he told you anything?"  
"What was Grantaire doing on your flat that early in the morning?" she asked amused.  
"That's not the part you should be concentrating on, Ép" Jehan replied.  
"Well, he didn't say anything in concrete, he mumbled under his breath and all I could take from that was your name, are you in a safe place?" she asked concern.  
"Why?" he squeezed Courfeyrac's hand.  
"He seemed really pissed, you know"   
Courfeyrac frowned at the squeeze. "Is everything okay?" He murmured softly.  
Jehan waved him off, lowering his eyes. "I'm with Courf and Grantaire... I paid he doesn't have a reason to be pissed." The man beside him narrowed his eyes at those words. "If you see him, tell him to call me and I'll solve things with him" Jehan said exasperated, he was getting tired of the drama on his life, finally he was having a good time with Courfeyrac and he didn't wanted it to be ruined by Montparnasse. "Thanks for calling Ép, see you soon"  
"Okay. Bye sweetie, say hi for me to those idjits" she said and ended the call.  
Jehan sighed, and Courfeyrac was getting anxious.  
"Is everything okay, Jehan?" he asked again.  
Jehan didn't want to talk but he couldn't stay silent, if this was another chance to be with Courfeyrac, he better as well start it without hiding things. "Montparnasse might be angry with me, because Grantaire kicked him out this morning"   
"Are you scared of what he might do?"   
"I'm... More frightened of what he would tell you, or do to the house." He admitted softly. "I can handle myself after all." He pressed against him. He should probably tell him the full factors. "I've… I've been on drugs."  
"Yeah well, if something happens to the house I'm really sure that some people will want to have some words with him" Courfeyrac said smiling at the poet, "and with some people I mean R and Bahorel, and with having some words I mean kick his little damn ass" Jehan chuckled softly and Courfeyrac left a light kiss on his lips. "And not even the devil himself will have his soul if he does something to you."  
Jehan smiled softly against his lips as he held him closer. He had so easily glossed over the subject, so easily let it slide by. It almost disturbed him. It was also comforting. He wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in his chest. "I love you."  
"I love you too" Courfeyrac said, holding the man in his arms, "No matter what, I'll be here for you"  
Jehan looked at his eyes, knowing what Courfeyrac meant, and he loved him the more for that. 

 

Grantaire leaned back, "That's as much as I can do without my pastels or other pencils." He smiled softly at Enjolras.  
"May I see it now?" Enjolras asked with a slight smile on his face.   
"I guess you can" Grantaire said eyeing his own work before turning it to Enjolras's view. He felt embarrassed; every single little detail of Enjolras's face was flawless in the page. Grantaire was quite proud of his drawing, but it could be creepy on other's eyes.  
Enjolras glanced over it, eyes softening. "Is this what you do?" he asked softly.  
"Pretty much, yes" Grantaire said with a blush on his cheeks.  
"Well it's... astonishing" Enjolras replied brushing the paper with his fingers lightly.   
A flash of pride came across the artist's face. "Thank you." He murmured, laughing brightly.

 

"Do… you want to head back? To the house I mean?" Jehan asked softly, glancing over at the two men. "I don't think Grantaire will be returning to us."  
A laugh came from Courfeyrac. "Yes, that will work."  
Courfeyrac stood and offered his hand to Jehan, he took it willingly. Both men gather their things and took off from the gardens to their house, all the way holding hands.


	3. As the day goes on.

Jehan pulled him into the house, laughing and kissing his cheeks and then his lips deeper. He tumbled back onto the couch, laughing. "You're really too wonderful to me."  
"You are too precious" Courfeyrac was tracing kisses all the way down his neck. Jehan let his head fall back, giving more skin. Courfeyrac stopped when he found the dark marks Grantaire left the night before.  
"What?" Jehan asked when Courfeyrac stopped.  
Courfeyrac pressed down on the mark. "You and Grantaire" Jehan stiffened, closing his eyes. "What are you?"  
"He's my friend" the poet said, "I... I needed something, um... someone to distract me from my... temptation"  
"You could have told me, I was right next to you" Courfeyrac said, biting the exact places where the skin was marked.  
Jehan's neck arched up, a gasp escaping his lips. "I didn't want you to think poorly of me. I mean what… What I'm resisting isn't exactly what most people would approve of." His breathing was calm though as he smiled at the man's touch.  
Courfeyrac’s hands slowly pushed back his sleeves, holding his arms when he tried to jerk back. "Stop that." He murmured softly against his neck, tracing the scars, the jagged lines and smooth cuts. "What is it? Which drug?"  
Jehan closed his eyes; it pained him to talk about his addiction. He wanted to forget about it, be done with it. "Cocaine" he said reluctantly, his shoulder fell.  
Courfeyrac grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, he kissed it gently. He held the man closer, "I will never abandon you. I will help you, if you want it."  
Jehan clung to him tightly.  
"Yes" Jehan replied to Courfeyrac, "I want your help"  
Courfeyrac searched for the poet's lips, and joined them in a passionate kiss, with all the want of the passed days when they were not together.  
Jehan melted into the kiss, pulling him close. Yes, this was better than any drug. Better than any other man or woman. His eyes closed as he pulled away to hug the man. "I love you" he whispered into his neck.  
"There is no sound more beautiful to me than your voice saying those three words" Courfeyrac said into the poet's hair.  
"I love you" Jehan repeated again with a smirk on his face.  
"And I love you too, always" Courfeyrac replied kissing his forehead.  
"Always" Jehan repeated, linking his fingers with Courfeyrac's as he snuggled against him. The man's hands running through his hair made him tired, safe. He yawned widely and blushed.  
"Maybe we should go take a nap on... our bed?" Courfeyrac asked looking into the poet's eyes.  
Jehan leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his lips, "Seems a good idea" he replied.  
Courfeyrac picked him up easily, spinning him around with easy laughter. Jehan clung to his shoulders, grinning and nuzzling his neck.  
Courfeyrac carried Jehan into his room, settling him gently on the bed. The poet pulled him down so both of them were lying on the mattress. Soon after they were tangled in each others arms, smiling and sharing languid kisses.  
Jehan cupped his face, holding him still for a moment. "I love you with all my heart. Know this though; I can still take care of myself."  
"I never doubt you" Courfeyrac said with a slight smirk on his face, "I, more than anyone, know that you are stronger than you look."  
Jehan leaned in and kissed the man deeply, "I love you"  
"I love you so much Jehan" Courfeyrac said pulling the man closer, "more than anything in this earth"  
He grinned and held onto him. "Now, are we really going to sleep love?" He teased lightly.  
Courfeyrac grinned, "You're the one who yawned."  
"But I'm not the only one who looks exhausted" Jehan replied, closing his eyes.  
"I am" Courfeyrac let his head fall on the pillow, "all the stress from the finals were killing me, but now i feel much better" he snuggled closer to the man.  
Jehan rubbed his shoulder. "Sleep, I'll watch you."  
"Did I ever mention what a wonderful roommate you are?"  
A small smile played on Jehan's lips. "Hopefully a better boyfriend."  
"I'm glad to hear that" Courfeyrac's face was taken over by a huge grin, "my boyfriend"  
Jehan's smile was wider now, he rested his head on his chest and minutes passed; the beat of Courfeyrac's heart like a lullaby seduced him into the warmness of sleep. "I love you" he murmured but Courfeyrac was far gone into unconsciousness. Jehan soon followed him into sleep, a smile on his face.

 

Grantaire smiled, looking away, searching for Courfeyrac and Jehan, but they were nowhere to be seen.  
"They took off a while ago" Enjolras told him still staring at the drawing.  
Grantaire looked at him shocked, "Those bastards" he said.  
"Well, they were busy with each other." He pointed out, his eyes narrowing. He was not as oblivious as many thought. "Why were you with them?"  
Grantaire shook his head, looking down at his sketchbook. "Jehan needed someone last night."  
"He needed someone" Enjolras repeated interpretating the words, "I see" Grantaire didn't know what to say, Enjolras wasn't asking for explanations yet the artist wanted to say more. When Grantaire moved to talk, Enjolras held up his finger. "If Jehan wanted people to know, he would have told us. Keep it a secret for now." He murmured softly. The artist nodded, smiling slightly.  
Grantaire sighed; he didn't know what to do. Enjolras was reading again, he stared at his unfinished drawing, thinking that maybe he could start another one. Starting a conversation was risking a fight, he was having a good time, an awkward good time, and he didn't want to finish it.  
"For someone who can't stop talking during my speeches you're pretty silent today" Enjolras said looking up from his book.  
"Today is a good day; I do not wish to ruin it." He murmured softly.  
Enjolras turned his gaze to him more fully. "Why would it be ruined?" He asked softly.  
"You know, our conversations never end well" Grantaire said resting his back against the tree beside Enjolras. “I rather be quiet"  
"That's ridiculous" Enjolras replied but Grantaire sent him a look, "yes, we discuss more than talk."  
"Discuss? That's a soft word to define it" Grantaire said laughing.  
Enjolras grinned in reply to his laughter. "Well, perhaps if we found topics we were less opinionated on. Though, half the time I think you only disagree with me to argue." Grantaire's burning cheeks made him laugh again. "Well, artist, what say you?"

Grantaire found that it was possible to have a light chat with Enjolras without ending in an argument. Enjolras smiled while talking, and Grantaire returned the gesture on his replies.  
"Something wrong?" Enjolras asked the artist when his face turned into a scowl. But Grantaire's eyes were on the man walking towards their place.  
"What do you want?" he asked bitterly.  
"I was told that our little poet is around here" Montparnasse replied with a smug smirk on his face.  
Enjolras managed a tense smile at the man, his eyes cold as ice as he spoke calmly. "You've been mislead then. At least, he is not here in this section of the park, but it's a large area." He changed his pace at the darkening look Grantaire was wearing. "Though, if you have an issue to take up with Prouvaire, we would be happy to take it up with you."  
"Especially since he's not 'our' poet, at least, not yours" Grantaire's words were sharp and angry. The younger man simply smirked at them, his eyes dark and glittering dangerously.  
"You better tell me where he is, I have damn business to solve with him" Montparnasse said with an evil spark on his eyes.  
"I kicked you out this morning, what makes you think that I won't do it right now?" Grantaire growled, he stood up slowly without breaking eye contact.  
"Oh, will you?" Montparnasse said amused, he grabbed Grantaire by his collar and shoved him against the tree.  
Enjolras stood slowly, his eyes darkening as he grabbed Montparnasse's collar "I believe two against one do not figure into odds that are good for you." He murmured, yanking him back. Grantaire glared at them both, but Enjolras held up his hand to still his words.  
Montparnasse slapped Enjolras's hand away. "Don't fucking touch me, blondie" he said.  
Grantaire felt like punching him on the face, but Enjolras stood in the middle of both men.  
"I think you should go" his voice was as dark as the look on his face.  
Montparnasse eyed Enjolras, and then his eyes darted to Grantaire's. "Tell our poet that I was looking for him, you know what?" his lips parted on a smirk, "I better call him and tell so myself"  
This time Enjolras didn't stop Grantaire when he moved to grab the man by the collar, "You hear me now little shit" Montparnasse tried to move back, but Grantaire moved one of his hand to grab the man by his hair and pulled his head back "if you dare make Jehan upset for whatever reason you might have, I swear not even God will save your little soul" he moved closer and hissed bitterly in his ear "I will end you"  
Montparnasse turned his head to the side, smirking. "I know God wants no part in my life. So don't think that's a threat."  
Grantaire growled and moved to hit him, but was pulled back by Enjolras again. He whirled, "Why the hell are you stopping me?" The blond only nodded towards the cops who had stopped at the entrance to the park. Grabbing Grantaire's shoulder, he turned and started walking away, but glared icily over his shoulder at the youngest member of the Patron Minette.  
"Simply because we're peaceful at protests won't stop us all from kicking your ass."  
"We'll see" Montparnasse said smiling shamelessly. "We will see"  
Grantaire glared, he wanted to pull away from Enjolras and beat the man.  
"I won't let you" Enjolras squeezed his shoulder, "cops are not my best friends, remember? Taking you out of jail would be a pain in the ass and a lose of time, it's not worthy." Grantaire growled under his breath, but allowed himself to be steered out of the park.

They walked the streets in silence, both were drown in their thoughts, Grantaire stopped on his heels and Enjolras turned to look at him.  
"Where are we going?" he asked to the blond man.  
Enjolras's eyes opened slightly, realizing that he was guiding Grantaire to his house.  
"I... um, I was walking to my house" Enjolras said.  
Grantaire's hand held tightly the case of his guitar; he smiled at the thought that crossed his mind, "I was right"  
"About what?" Enjolras said moving to stand closer to Grantaire, giving space to the passers by.  
"Our conversations always end up in arguments"  
Enjolras smiled slightly, "To be fair, it was not between us"  
He grinned, nodding. "I give you that Enjolras, I give you that." Now he was curious though. What did the house of their leader look like? Was it set and orderly like Combeferre and Joly's? Or was it a mess like Jehan's?  
Enjolras shook his head, resuming their walk, though closer to Grantaire.  
The artist was thankful to have his guitar on his hand, if not more than once he would have fallen on the stupid impulse to grab the leader's hand. He didn't though, every time he held the case tightly and sighed.  
"Are you okay?" Enjolras asked after hearing the artist sighed for the fifth time.  
He nodded, shifting closer to the wall as Enjolras turned towards a door. "Just fine" he nodded again, more firmly this time as he watched the man's long fingered hands turn the key in the lock.  
"Okay" Enjolras said coming into the house and guiding Grantaire into the living room, "make yourself comfortable, do you want something to drink?"  
Grantaire left the case next to the couch, "What do you have to offer?"  
"Coffee and water, I think I have tea too" Enjolras said.  
"No beer?" he asked and Enjolras sent him a slight glare, "then, let it be coffee"  
When Enjolras left the room, Grantaire's eyes darted around the place.  
The house was sparse, as though no extra money had gone into the furnishing. No pictures on the wall, no rug on the floors. The couch was old, the table worn. Grantaire was slightly confused; he thought the man had liked his comfort. The only expensive things here were the bookcases.  
Enjolras glanced over his shoulder from the kitchen. "Everything okay?"  
"Yeah um, it's just... it's the first time I'm on your house, I was just wandering how it'd look like" Grantaire explained.  
"It's just a house like any other"  
"I guess" he said glancing at the books.  
"How is yours?" Enjolras asked when he comes into the living room with two cups of coffee.  
Grantaire shrugged, "You know, livable. Not too cluttered, but canvases of half done paintings everywhere." his eyes lowered as he could not meet the man's gaze as he took the coffee from him.  
Sitting on the couch, Enjolras stared at him in thought. "Why is Montparnasse hassling our poet?"  
Grantaire's face looked pained. "I... I don't know if I should tell"  
Enjolras sighed, "I know I told you not to tell me, but now I'm asking"  
Grantaire sipped from his cup measuring his response, "Jehan has being... dealing with him" he looked up, "Today he appeared at his house, things were getting out of Jehan's hands and I kicked him out not kindly if I may say"  
His face darkening, Enjolras gripped his cup tighter. "We don't have time for fools like Montparnasse." He murmured. "I will not act as though I know."  
"Thank you." Grantaire murmured.  
"But if something happens, please let me know" Enjolras's voice was serious, "and I'll do my best to help."  
"You always do" Grantaire replied to the man.  
"Grantaire, I’m serious."  
"I will tell you, if that's what you want" he finished his coffee and looked up, "this was too much interaction between us for a day, it feels awkward without arguing."  
"Stop saying that" Enjolras looked at the man in the eyes, "we don't need to fight all the time and we are more than discussions."  
Grantaire glanced up at him, fighting back a sneer. "Oh, are we? I wasn't aware. It seems like I am nothing more than something to throw ideas at and expect an argument in return to build your speech."  
His words, so bitter, took Enjolras by surprise. But he didn't want to prove Grantaire right, he swallowed hard and quietly said "I don't see you as something to throw ideas at, I consider you my friend. Yes you infuriate me sometimes, but that doesn't make you less of a person."  
Grantaire laughed softly, but turned away. "I suppose not...Perhaps my lack of compassion for my fellow humans?"  
Moving across the couch, Enjolras placed a hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. "Why do you have such low esteem?"  
Grantaire stared at the hand resting in his shoulder, "I've lived many things" he sighed "believe it or not, there was a time where I had hopes and dreams, but... ‘life’ crushed them when I was young, and back then I didn't have anything to believe in, Enjolras, and I hated everything and more than anything I hated myself." He pulled back the tears oh his eyes, lowering his head.  
Enjolras gently rubbed the man's shoulder before pulling him into a tight hug. "I apologize that life has treated you to that point." He murmured softly. What could he say to those words? There was nothing to say. He held the man against him, hoping just the contact would be enough.  
Grantaire leaned in the hug, pressing closer to Enjolras. He sighed, the warm embrace made him feel at peace. Grantaire would not dare say that now he had something to believe in, and that that reason was him. "It's okay" he said, "now I have people around, Jehan, Courf..." he named his friends slowly resting his head on the blonde's shoulder, “and you."  
"I am happy to be counted among those names." He spoke softly. He was tired of being viewed as a cold statue that never cared. He cared for all of his friends fiercely. To see them in danger or falling apart pained him more than the thought of his own death.  
Grantaire nuzzled his shoulder, "Of course you count... you'll always count to me", his cheeks blushed slightly.  
Enjolras smiled and pulled apart slowly, "Thank you" he said.  
Suddenly, Grantaire's phone went off startling both men.  
Grantaire fumbled to get his hand into his pocket to grab it, whipping it out to place it to his ear. He hadn't even had time to check the ID. "What? What is it?"  
"Yoo, R" Bahorel's cheerful voice came aloud from the phone, Grantaire smiled at the man's greeting.  
"Hey Bahorel, what do you need?"  
Enjolras nodded at him and stood with the two empty cups.  
"I'm at the bar, want to have some drinks?"  
Grantaire turned and eyed Enjolras, the man was washing the cups, he could say no, but for how much longer would he stay with Enjolras? What would he talk about with him? What if he says something wrong and they end up fighting again? Of course he would say something wrong; he is the bitter cynic after all.  
He sighed, "Yeah, sure" he replied, "I'll be there in 30"  
"I'll be waiting man, see ya'" Bahorel ended the call.

"Leaving so soon?" Enjolras attempted to joke lightly. The soft moment they had managed to share was gone, and he couldn't lie and say he wasn't thankful. It had been awkward, awakening in him something he was not comfortable with. Grantaire nodded and he smiled, "I hope you have."  
"Thanks for the coffee" Grantaire said, standing from the couch and grabbing his guitar he added "and... um, for everything else."  
"It's okay." Enjolras replied walking behind Grantaire to the door.  
"Well" Grantaire didn't want to leave, yet he feared if he stays he would ruin the good moment he spent with Enjolras. "I guess this is my cue to leave."  
Enjolras could see the hesitance in the dark haired man. Clasping his shoulder, he grinned softly at the man. "Anytime, okay? You're always welcome here." He said softly.  
Grantaire smiled, "Um, thank you... it's just, we don't usually have times like at the gardens, before the assbutt appeared.” lowering his face, his words were almost a whispered, "Maybe we could go out another time?"  
Enjolras smiled, eyes softening as he nodded, "Yes, I think I would like that. I'd like to see that finished sketch too."  
Grantaire blushed slightly as he nodded content. "Yes, of course" he said fighting to find words, his hand grabbed the guitar's case tightly, "I'll call you later then, well... not later, I mean... I, see you around"  
"Later." He nodded. He closed the door and rested his head against it. Things were changing, he could sense it.  
Grantaire walked all the way to the bar with a huge grin on his face. He couldn't believe that his Apollo agreed to go out with him again, and that he was welcome on his home anytime. His heart was dancing on his chest, a warmth feeling spread all over his it.  
He was so happy he didn't notice the group of men who was following him.


	4. Bars Adventures.

Bahorel clasped his shoulder upon his entrance. He grinned, his eyes dark as he looked over the man's shoulder. "Looks like you've got some friends Grand R." He mocked.  
He turned around to find Montparnasse grinning smugly, "Hello" the man said, "I think we left some things unfinished early today, didn't we?"  
"I thought that I made my point clear" Grantaire replied, Bahorel at his side was smiling, the blood in his veins running faster, wishing, anticipating, wanting a fight.  
"Oh yes, you said something, some kind of useless threat" Montparnasse walked slowly to stand next to Grantaire, the group of men right behind him. "Care to remind me?"  
"I'd rather go through with my threat now." He snarled softly, cracking his knuckles. He didn't have to watch himself with Enjolras not being around.  
Bahorel's grin grew. "Oh, so we're gonna get a fight without buying a drink first?"  
"Fight first, drinks later" Grantaire said, dodging a punch.

Montparnasse pounced against him, while two of his friends attacked Bahorel. Grantaire hit Montparnasse on the stomach, pushing him into a table, but the man was agile, taking one of Grantaire's arms, he turned on himself twisting his arm and locking it by his back.  
With a punch Bahorel sent one man to the floor. People moved, leaving the bar, the owner called the police quickly. Another man hit Bahorel in the face, but he was hard to knock, Bahorel hit back and a second man fell to the floor. The third hit him with a chair, making him fall against a table.  
Meanwhile Montparnasse had Grantaire trapped. With one hand he held his arm twisted on his back and with the other he tugged from his hair.  
"Now see, I hope this will be a lesson, drunkard" he whispered in Grantaire's ear.  
But Grantaire pushed back with one leg, hitting man hard on his face.  
Montparnasse fell back, clasping his nose. "Y-You broke my nose! You bastard!" He yelled, halfway in shock from the feeling of his nose becoming misshapen. Grantaire smirked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Wanna go again? I'm pretty sure I can break more than your face."  
Grantaire laughed, the result of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a clean and jerk he threw his body backwards, falling on Montparnasse, who finally let go of his arm.  
Retrieving the mobility of his arms he took Montparnasse by the neck and gave him a punch in the face, and then another, and another.  
Bahorel rose with the fury of a bull, pouncing on the man who hit him with the chair with the bestiality of a wild animal.  
The police didn't take long to arrive, hearing the sirens two of the men ran, leaving Grantaire, Montparnasse, Bahorel and the man he was beating wildly, in the scene.

When the police went into the bar, Bahorel looked up and smiled brazenly at Grantaire, he took two beers from the bar and tossed one to his friend.  
"Looks like the party's over" he said, raising his beer in salute to the cops.  
He nodded, raising the beer as well. "What do you say we clear out of this one and find one with a bit more class?" He demanded, kicking Montparnasse in the side.  
"Sounds good to me, I mean, it won't be the first time we've outrun the cars." Bahorel answered with a feral grin as he grabbed a six pack, leaving the money on the bar.  
"See you another time, or for your own good, not see you at all" Grantaire spitted to Montparnasse before running behind Bahorel. They took off by the back door, laughing and screaming, cleaning the blood falling from their parted lips.  
"This day couldn't have gone better" Grantaire shouted, passing Bahorel.  
"Damn your legs, bastard" the man said, running faster.  
They could hear the police shouting at them by the now far away bar, but is not the first time they fail trying to catch the pair.

Bahorel stumbled into the bar Grantaire had turned into, laughing and holding his side. "Dammit man, this is why I never bet against you in races." He growled, spitting the blood in his mouth into the plant pot beside the door. "Just take this and stop your smiling."  
The artist took the offered beer, grinning widely as the man grumbled, mostly to himself.  
"Finally" Grantaire said, opening one bottle, "the drinks" he took one long gulp, then offered it to Bahorel.  
"So" Bahorel turned to Grantaire when they found a table, "care to elaborate what was all that back there? Because I know those bastards were behind you for a reason."  
"Some issues with Jehan, I won't go into detail." Grantaire growled softly. "But it's open season on that man."  
"Well, you can bet your ass that they won't be around for a while" Bahorel laughed.  
"I don't know man, that was funny" Grantaire replied, "I feel very alive"  
"Fuck yeah, but our poet won't like to see our faces like this" he gestured both of them, "by the way you have blood on your chin"  
"We can say that it's because some trouble you caused, wouldn't be the first time"  
"Do you really think Jehan is that stupid?"  
"You're right, but we can try" Grantaire took a long gulp of his beer.  
Bahorel laughed sharply, chugging his down before making a face. "Cheap ass shit." He ignored the rolling of Grantaire's eyes. "Where were you that you seemed so hesitant to agree to come with me?"  
The artist turned a slight shade of red.  
"I was at Enjolras's" he said after a moment.  
"Oh" Bahorel smirks, a mixture between evil and warm. He knew about Grantaire's feeling for their leader, everyone knew, except Enjolras of course. But Bahorel was the one who always heard Grantaire non-stop-drunk-rumbling about his Apollo. He, more than anyone else; knew how deeply those feeling were. "May I ask what happened?"  
A soft smile came to Grantaire's face. "We didn't argue." He whispered softly. "In fact, it was a rather pleasant conversation." His hands closed around the can.  
"He let me draw him, didn't finish the sketch though" Grantaire looked up, "And we... um, we're going to go out again"  
Bahorel raised his eyebrows, "You go boy! That's a really good thing" a warm smile took his face when the artist blushed. "I'm happy for you, you deserve good things."  
"Thank you" Grantaire said, "I am happy too"  
"I bet you are, how long have you been pinning for him?" Bahorel bumped his bottle against Grantaire's.  
Grantaire flushed softly. "Longer than is probably healthy." He replied, raising it in a toast and downing it.  
"Amen to that." He replied.  
"Enough of me" Grantaire said with a smirk on his face, "I just remember something funny"  
"Well, stop making that face and talk" Bahorel told him.  
"I've heard" he laughed anticipating his friend's face, "that you and Feuilly almost kissed once"  
"I've almost kissed a lot of the amis." He replied with a grin, leaning forward and winking. "Who can reject this?"  
Grantaire scoffed. "You haven't kissed me yet."  
"Yet, you've said it" Bahorel winked at him again.  
"Yeah well, I don't know what I was expecting actually, wait" he said, "have you kissed...?"  
Bahorel bursted out laughing and Grantaire blushed again.  
"Oh god, no, I haven't kissed Enjolras either" Bahorel couldn't control his laugh.  
Grantaire's cheeks became even warmer. "I-Bahorel shut up with that laughter you treat me like a girl!" He snarled, punching his shoulder.  
Bahorel grinned, "Do you want me to punch back?"  
"Keep your hands off of me."  
"What about my lips? Do you want that kiss now?" Bahorel said, trying to pull Grantaire closer.  
"Get off me, asshole" Grantaire laughed squirming away.  
They grinned at each other, their friendship firm and rightly odd. They were closer then friends, more separate than brothers. They were comfortable with that as well though. "So, I… I don't now what me and Enjolras will do tomorrow on our-"  
"Date?"  
Grantaire sighed, "Yeah, date" he looked up at Bahorel, "What should I do? This was not a good idea."  
"Calm down, beauty" Bahorel said patting his head, "You should ask Jehan though, I'm sure he has better ideas of a date than I do."  
"Jehan's got his own shit right now." He murmured softly. His hands ran through his hair as he looked at the man.  
Bahorel sighed, clasping his shoulder now. "Don't treat it like a date."  
"What do you mean?" Grantaire tilted his head slightly.  
"Just don't think it's a date, like today... did you think it was a date?"  
"Um, no" Grantaire blinked, "but it was unexpected."  
"Yeah well.... just try not to think too much, you know what happens when you do." Bahorel smiled, nudging his ribs playfully.  
The artist frowned softly. "Yeah, well, that makes sense, okay." He replied softly. He just... had to act normal tomorrow, yes.  
Bahorel rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl."  
"Shut up."  
"Oh c'mon darling, don't be shy" Bahorel's laugh was loud, after a moment he said "but really, don't overthink it, everything will be alright, if today was good then tomorrow will be too" he snatched the last beer from Grantaire's hand "but I'm keeping this."  
The artist scowled. "No, give that back. I'm gonna need it for tomorrow!"  
"Enjolras is gonna want you sober." He reminded.  
"But..."  
"No 'buts', I'm going to assume today you were sober, right?" Grantaire nodded, "See? You don't need it."  
"I do need it, Bahorel"  
"That's what you want to believe it" Bahorel stared at him, "look, I know that I'm not the one to lecture, If you want to drink I'll let you as far as you don't kill yourself, but we both know that you don't need it, you just turn to it because before there was no one you could turned to" he rested his hand in Grantaire's shoulder and pressed a little, "but you have me, and Jehan, and all the others- hey look at my eyes, look... that's it, we care for you" after a moment of silence he added, "oh god, I'm a sentimental bastard"  
Grantaire had grown flustered under his words, but the sudden outburst of disgust had him laughing madly. "Damn straight you are and it' weird as fuck." He replied. His eyes lowered though. "Yeah, okay, I get you....I'll try okay?"  
"That's all I can ask." Bahorel rumbled before rubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, come on, let's go, yeah? Drink up, get smashed, don't be anything but sober tomorrow. But lets celebrate tonight."  
"Are you the same that gave me that lecture a moment ago?" Grantaire laughed, "Bahorel you are weird as shit and I love you" he grabbed the beer from his hand and drowned a long gulp.  
"It's because I can't handle when you have that kicked-puppy face" Bahorel said calling the waitress for more beers.  
"More beer, unless you want something else" Bahorel asked Grantaire.  
The artist tought for a moment, "Nah, beer it's good"  
"You know, it's cute the way you don't want to dissapoint Enjolras and only ask for beer"  
"Don't start again" Grantaire said trying to glare at his friend.  
Bahorel grinned, a wolfish smile. "No, I don't think you understand. It's fucking precious." He teased.  
Grantaire mimed a blow at him, sighing heavily. "You think you can trust a man." He bemoaned mockingly. His words only earned a sharp bark of laughter.  
"Says the cynic who trusts in no one and denounces the gods."  
Grantaire's face suddenly turned serious, "I don't think you understand. It's not like I don't trust anyone, no one seems to want to gain my trust" he drown a long gulp of his beer, "I'm way to much sober for this shit"  
"No one?"  
"I have fears, you know... sometimes I think no one actually cares... I know you do, I just... I have my demons"  
Frowning slightly, Bahorel offered him a stronger beer. "I'm glad you know we care. All of us have our demons, and we're here to keep you safe from yours." He murmured.  
"Thank you" Grantaire clasped his shoulder, "I really appreciate it"  
Bahorel changed the subject, making the chat lighter.  
Later that night he walked his not-so-drunk-as-usual friend home, making sure he got back alright. A soft grin was on his lips as he nicked the cigarette out of the man's mouth and stood outside his door. He listened for the sound of him going to bed before walking down the sidewalk.  
Hopefully, tomorrow would be a good day for the artist.


End file.
